Rebirth of the Light
by Caslia
Summary: REVISED 02/21/09 Anakin Skywalker AU Redemption fic. The path set by desinty is changed forever when the Force brings Darth Vader to witness the birth of his twin children, Luke and Leia.
1. Revised Intro

**Rebirth of the Light**

AU EPIII - _Prologue

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_

As the Clone Wars spread across the galaxy, ties between friends and loved ones became strained, allowing for other forces to exert influence over hearts and minds. Over a period of months, the Sith Master, also known as the Supreme Chancellor Palpatine of the dying Republic, managed to create a rift between Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker and his former Master, Obi-wan Kenobi. As the two continued to take on more missions for the Jedi Council, Anakin became frustrated with his inability to become as powerful a Jedi as he wished. Though he feared for his friend, Obi-wan found duty and space, and eventually Palpatine's sinister influence, too great a distance to broach.

Meanwhile, Skywalker's secret wife, Padme Naberrie, made plans with others in the Republic senate to oppose Palpatine's rule. As she saw her husband changing from the man she had loved into something unrecognizable, Padme began to distance herself from him, so much so that when she discovered she was pregnant, Padme decided not to tell Anakin. She resigned, and returned to her homeworld, where she felt safe from both the Darkside influence, and the man her husband had become.

As the galaxy fell apart, Padme began to fear for the new life growing inside her. She tried one last desperate effort to reach her Anakin, but the man who arrived on Naboo was anything but the gentle, compassionate person she had known. When Padme refused to join him and his new Empire, Anakin went into a senseless rage he would later regret. With the help of Sabe and Obi-wan, whom she had contacted earlier hoping he could reconnect with Anakin, Padme escaped and went into hiding.

Obi-wan went after his former friend. The two fought, and Anakin suffered grievous injuries after falling into a lava pit. Obi-wan thought to save him, offered his hand, but at the last moment Anakin rejected it, and fell to what should have been his doom. Believing his brother dead, Kenobi left, only to later learn Anakin had survived. The turned Jedi gave the Sith all the necessary information to destroy the Jedi temple, and when the surgery was complete, he rained fire down upon Naboo. The search for his wife and traitorous master led Anakin further and further into the Darkness.

Now, nearly a year has passed since Anakin Skywalker fell from grace and became the Dark Lord of the Sith. The Jedi are destroyed and those few that remain have gone into hiding, Obi-wan Kenobi among them. Vader is just on the edge of total despair, of giving into the Dark dreams that haunt his waking hours, when he beings to hear a voice. It whispers to him, begs him to follow it, away from the Empire, into the starry sky. Finding it his only comfort in these hopeless times, its compelling words a respite from his anger and grief, Vader follows it and discovers the Light within has been reborn. . .

According to the date of publication, I original started this fan fic back in February of 2003, while still in high school. I am now a graduate student, with plenty of years of maturing between then and now. I never intended to revise any of _Rebirth of the Light_, but I am about to finish the series that follows after this, _The Years that Followed_, (previously titled _The Years in Between_) and conclude with the extended epilogue _Glimpses of the Future_, and thought I might go back and edit the original story line.

Hopefully, this will take care of all overly-elaborate language, spelling/grammar/formatting errors, as well as link this fic up with the following two with more clarity. If you are reading this before the editing is fully finished, you may notice some inconsistencies, as this was written just after EPII came out. So mentions of Sullest will change to Mustafar, as well as a few other small things. To some degree, this is still, and will always be a "work in progress" (as all writing is) but eventually I will have to say "enough!" whether it is perfected or not.

Thanks to all readers, and I hope you enjoy this unusual version of an Anakin Skywalker AU

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Caslia 


	2. Revised Chapter 1

Not revised this time, but totally rewritten.

***

Rebirth of the Light: Chapter 1

***

_He could hear someone crying._

_That wasn't anything unusual. Everywhere he went now, there was nothing but pain. Nothing but tears and shattered beliefs, faith brought to the edge and pushed over to drop into the dark pit that waited below._

_The wailing continued._

_Someone was in pain – great deal of pain – and the voice sounded familiar. There was a metallic tinge to it that had not been there before, a harshness that was new. But still, the voice rang in his ears, and he felt himself being pulled towards it…_

Vader awoke with a gasp, and for a moment of complete incoherence, struggled against the machinery that surrounded him. Wires seemed to wrap around him, the course sheets became twisted under his ruined body. The clear ceiling to his sleep cubical was pressing down on top of him, crush the very breath from his lungs! He had to get out! He had to –

A semblance of coherence returned to him in a rush.

He was in his sleep cubical onboard his new flagship. The wires were there to monitor his vitals, not to entangle him. His lungs worked fine. Proof of that was the constant, harsh expulsion of breath, the suck and wheeze of every inhalation, regardless of how he occasionally forgot and struggled against the machine.

He was alive.

Alive.

Vader lay back in what passed as his poor excuse for a bed and stared up through the clear ceiling to the bulkhead above. The darkness of his personal quarters should have been a comfort. Anywhere else on the ship, anywhere in the entire Imperial fleet even, he felt the eyes of his officers on him. Staring in horror at the sight of him. At the monstrosity that was their commanding officer.

Alive? Vader scoffed. He wasn't alive. Blood pumped through his veins and air circulated through his lungs. The Force still hummed through him, diminished though his contact with it was. By the most technical of definitions he was alive.

And he desperately wished he wasn't.

With a forceful shove, Vader pushed down that worthless self-pity and began the process of extracting himself from the cubical. If he was awake, he might as well get some work done.

But what had awoken him?

As he reached up to place the mask over his features, his pale skin on his own flesh-and-blood hand brushed across his cheek. A hot trail of wetness made him jerk in surprise.

_No!_ It had been a _dream_, and a _dream only!_ He was no so weak now as to cry out in his sleep. He was a Dark Lord of the Sith! He would persevere through the torment that was his ruined body, through the betrayals he had suffered, the agony of so much loss. And he would come out stronger, more resilient.

Drawing on the Darkness, Vader pushed down the crushing despair he felt rising up within him and rose from the cubical, mask in place.

For a long moment he stood, once again making the adjustment to being in the suit. The red-tinged vision always gave him pause, the feel of mechanical legs in place of those Kenobi, his old master, had taken from him. Through some bit of luck, he had escaped with his left arm undamaged. But now, after months in the confines of the suit, it felt just as withered as the rest of his body.

The Darkness was eating him from the inside out.

_I deserve this_, a traitorous part of him whispered. _I made my choice. I can live with the price_. _But I don't want to. Force help me, I didn't want this._

Vader ignored that tiny, insignificant voice. There were things to do. There was an Empire to build, and order to restore to the galaxy. There was no time for self-pity, or doubts, or lingering guilt and ever-increasing regrets. There was nothing but the Darkness, and his duty to the Emperor.

With a harsh inhalation and a furious flutter of his cloak, Vader turned and strode from the room. He would make his rounds on the bridge, let the men see him, let their fear sooth away the after-effects of the dream.

In the shadows, a form began to take shape.

***

"Milord, it is an honor to have you join us on the bridge this morning."

Vader, standing at the viewport with hands clasped behind him, didn't even bother to turn to address the officer. He had had enough of camaraderie among the troopers of the Clone Wars. Had had enough of it alongside fellow Jedi. Now he just wanted to be left to his smoldering emotions.

"I am interested only in the report you have for me," he glanced briefly at the man to determine his rank. "Admiral."

The other man gulped, and nodded. Vader had been among the fleet, serving as Supreme Commander of Imperial Forces long enough to build a rather terrifying reputation. Add to that the fury that seemed to roll off him in waves, and it did not take much to engender the proper emotions in those around him.

Fear. Disgust. Loathing.

The last they knew nothing about, their paltry attempts at despising him amounting to nothing in comparison to the cold, hard ball of self-hatred that rested where Vader's heart had once been.

"_You're very melodramatic."_

Vader froze, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. With a lethal slowness, he turned to face the trembling officer beside him.

The little man, looking no more than early twenties, already had a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and looked to be knocking his knees together. He licked his lips, glancing around him as though hoping some other unfortunate had come up behind him while he wasn't looking. But there was no one there but himself.

"What," Vader inquired quietly, feeling the Darkness gathering around him in a fever pitch, "did you just say?"

"I-I said we're in the – uh – in the Thanatia system, Milord."

Thanatia? He had never heard of it. It was worthless, insignificant. He would crush it, as he crushed everything else he touched. He would crush this shaking little man beside him, who insulted him and then lied to his face.

"_Don't hurt him. Let go of your anger. Come to me._

Vader paused. _That_ had not come from the officer. The voice was too soft, to light, like a breeze disturbing still air. He stilled the rising of his hand, the call of the Force to seal shut the officer's windpipe.

"What," he asked again, his vocorder managing to carry his curiosity through the wires, the Darkness receeding, "What did you just say?" The man was going to think he had gone deaf. This was absurd. The dreaded Dark Lord of the Sith could not appear to have hearing problems.

"Thanatia, Milord. We've arrived." The younger man continued to shake, realizing now that not only had he obtained the much-unwanted attention of his commanding officer, but the pitying eyes of every other being on the bridge.

"_Come to me."_

Vader stared down at the man. He briefly wondered if this was some sort of prank. Certainly there had been the occasional joke among the clone troopers and their Jedi generals. Could the Imperial forces be so insolate as to believe the same could be had with the Sith?

But he dismissed that thought almost immediately. Something else was going on here.

"_Come to me."_

And then he felt it. A tug, coming from deep inside him. A strong, indescribable yearning. The Force was slowly wrapping itself around him, urging him forward somehow, pulling at the very fibers of his soul. It was disconcerting, and for a moment, Vader attempted to fight it.

The hold on his tightened.

And _yanked_.

"_Come to me."_

Vader turned away from the officer, who looked like he was about to collapse right there on the bridge, and gazed out the view port. Follow…to where? There? Vader stared down at the spinning green and blue orb that was the single inhabitable planet in the system. It hung lazily in space, as though ignorant of the sudden danger presented by the Imperial fleet.

There. There was where the Force was calling him to.

What in the galaxy was happening to him? First the dream, and now this childish urge to take a pointless joyride down to some worthless planet? The fleet was in this system only to assure that now Republic renegades were using the space to gather a fleet of this own. There was nothing here, no sensors had picked up ships in the area. They should leave, push onward to the next system, covering as many as they could before the Emperor called him back to Imperial Center.

"_Come to me."_

Vader cursed aloud, making a number of the men on the bridge jump.

"Get a shuttle ready for departure." He barked, turning from the sight of the planet and storming down the walkway.

The officer he had been unintentionally tormenting managed to squeak out, "Milord?"

"The fleet is to continue on with their assigned reconnaissance. I will rejoined you when I have…_taken care_ of something."

He vanished through the bridge doors a moment later, and as one, the crew released a sigh in relief. For now, the danger had passed.

They did not know they would never have to stand in the presence of Darth Vader again.

***

"_Come to me."_

Vader growled as the landing gear engaged and the shuttle rocked as it settled into place on the crest of a hill. The entire landscape was made of hills actually, rising and falling in between patches of dense forest and the occasional lake. The entire planet seemed to be one huge prairie, occasional disturbed by massive oaks and hamlets.

His sensors had picked up a major city, but it boasted only limited technology, and no spaceport to speak of. The villages that had passed under his ship as he slowly came down through the last level of atmosphere looked to be quiet, and primitive by his standards. There had been farms, and a few herds grazing among the hills.

The place reeked of the Lightside of the Force.

"_Come to me," _the voice – or voices, Vader thought he could hear more than one now – continued to whisper. They were familiar. They had a similar hum to them as the rest of the Force, a quiet buzzing in the back of his head that had only now gained enough pitch to make it through the rest of the noise.

Had he been hearing these voices before? They were familiar enough. Perhaps he was only now close enough to this strange planet to hear them above everything else.

"Be quiet," he order, irritation rising up inside him at their constant babble. "I'm here, aren't I? Now what is it you want?"

Another bout of the same refrain had Vader grinding his teeth in annoyance, before unstrapping himself from the pilot's seat and making his way out of the cockpit. Down the boarding ramp and out into the cool air he could neither breath nor feel, Vader felt the Force continue to pull at him, leading him away from the ship.

There was only one thing for it. If he had come this far, he would press onwards. He would discover whatever it was the voices were leading him to, he would deal with the situation in the appropriate manner, and return to the fleet.

His master would not be pleased when he learned Vader had gone chasing off after voices.

The tug led him down the crest and over after hill. This one was slightly higher, and from it, Vader could gaze off in the direction the Force was urging him.

"_Come to me!"_

And that was when Vader felt it.

The feeling blossomed inside him, a itching, burning, desperate sensation the likes of which he had not felt in months. It was a bright, brilliant pain that jabbed hard at his inner core, delivering a shock to his entire system, so that he sucked in a great gasp of air, fighting the regulator. Something inside him awoke, startled to be standing here, on this unfamiliar planet with _that_ presence so close.

_Padme!_

It was a presence he had not felt in some months. Not since that near-fatal encounter on Naboo, before the duel with Kenobi that had left him almost crippled.

It was his wife. And she was in pain.

Before he knew what he was doing, Vader was down the hill, speeding across the plains in a rush of exhilaration and fear. The distance meant nothing to him – the Force was his ally and before long, there ahead of his appeared a house, nestled in between an oasis of oaks. The entire area seemed covered in a dense, invisible fog, as though someone was manipulating the Force to hide the house and the beings within it.

But Vader could see through it, could sense his wife and others inside. He was literally _breathing _in her pain.

"_Come! Now!"_

With a roar, lightsaber in hand, Vader was through the main entrance, through the common room, down a hallway, the Force and his own inner demons propelling him forward. A moment later, he burst through a door, the red of his saber casting the scene before him in its ghastly glow.

The room's occupants froze as all eyes in the room turned to stare at him.

In turn, Vader stared at the tiny woman reclining on the bed. She lay on her back, the bulge of his stomach a strange addition to her form. Her hair was slick with sweat, dark rings under her beautiful russet eyes, an aura of pain and wariness hanging over her like a shroud of death.

But there was no mistaking her.

"Padme," Vader breathed, and stepped into the room.

***

Caslia


	3. Revised Chapter 2

Oops. See, this is what happens when you rewrite the beginning of a story. You forget about things you had previously written into it. Okay, my bad, Darth has all his arms and legs. The wounds he received from his battle with Obi-wan didn't include his limbs, and the full extent of his injuries gets explained in a much later chapter.

It's only these first two posts I was rewriting, so everything else should flow together smoothly. And yes, there will be a bit of a change in the writing style now and then, because the beginning chapters were written years ago, and I can't be bothered the rewrite the _whole_ thing. Right, moving on. After this, as there will be no rewriting, the posts will update with more regularity.

Rebirth of the Light: Chapter 2

For one long, terrifying moment, Vader thought she was going to scream.

But Padme drew one breath, then another, coming unglued from the shock that seemed to have frozen the entire room. And she smiled.

"Anakin!"

His heart constricted painfully, the sound of his name passing across her lips like the hot blade of a lightsaber piercing his chest. The very sight of her was enough to destroy him. Her very presence seemed to viciously tear Vader apart, only to piece him whole a moment later.

Then Padme reared back her head, and screamed.

That sickening desperation, muted by the sight of his wife, spiked in Vader and had him lunging for her. His lungs fought the respirator as he sucked in deep breaths; his feet seemed to be made of lead. Collapsing beside the bed, his lightsaber forgotten, Vader reached down and clasped his wife's tiny hand in his massive one.

"Padme," he moaned, not understanding what was happening but sharing his beloved's pain regardless. "Padme, my Angel."

"Anakin," she gasped, laying her head back on the sweat-drenched pillow, her hair tangling about her face. "I knew-knew you would-would come. Somehow…somehow I knew you would be here."

His labored breathing hitched as much as the respirator would allow it.

She had believed in him. Even after everything he had done, to her, to the galaxy they had both so desperately wanted to save, Padme had still believed her Anakin would come to her rescue.

He was no longer the man she had fallen in love with – and yet, Padme wanted him here.

The snap-hiss of a lightsaber cut through the precious moment, shattering the intensity of Vader's attention on his wife. She drew back, pressing down into the bed before releasing another shriek. Even in pain, Padme managed to glare at the man holding the lightsaber to her husband's neck.

"Put that thing away," she managed to gritted teeth.

"I'm afraid I cannot, Padme," the Jedi Master sounded weary, weighed down.

Vader, still kneeling beside the bed, turned slowly to face the tip of the glowing blade that hovered mere inches from his mask. The light of it all but blinded him, but beyond it, he could see the familiar figure of Kenobi – mentor, friend and traitor.

"You couldn't kill me the last time, Kenobi," he growled. But the hatred that had been there the last time their blades had crossed seemed to have disappeared. Time and reflection had weakened it. This man had been his brother in another life. The thought resisted his instinct to reach for his own weapon.

"A weakness on my part that you have suffered for." Obi-wan replied softly. He stared down the form before him, at the mask and the armor and wondered if there was anything of his friend left inside that monstrosity. It was partly his doing. He had been blind to Anakin's slow corruption, willfully ignorant of the increasing burdens placed upon his friend. And when it had come time to destroy what had been created, to cut down the young man he had raised, and loved, Obi-wan could not bring himself to do it.

And this was what had come of it.

"Obi-wan!" Padme ground out, and he could hear the plea in her voice. But he couldn't waver, not now. Not again. The last time it had cost Anakin – Vader – an easy escape into death. This time, with the last hope of the galaxy about to be born, it would cost so much more.

"I'm sorry, Padme. But that is not your husband." It couldn't be. It _couldn't_ be. This couldn't be the Jedi's Chosen One, the man who had believed in justice and fought for what was good and right. Where was the moppy-headed child, the eager apprentice, the Jedi knight? Force, where had this _Sith_ come from, this inexplicable hatred?

Obi-wan was a Jedi. And as a Jedi, even one of the last, it was still his duty to destroy the Sith. He would bring down his saber. He would kill this Dark creation before him. There was no other choice.

"I don't know how you found us." He offered as a farewell. His heart felt like it was breaking. "I wish you hadn't."

Obi-wan made to lower his saber, his entire body taunt with expectation of Vader somehow managing to bring his own blade up in defense.

Then a presence arrived at his side, and Kenobi froze.

"Can't you two discuss your ideological differences later? The senator is about to give birth here!"

The Jedi hesitated, looking away from the Sith for the first time to glance at the woman standing beside him. She was a former handmaiden of Padme's, and any other time, Kenobi would have been unsettled by the indifference Sabe seemed to have for the seriousness of the situation. But Obi-wan had to silently admit, glancing at the struggling form of the senator on the bed, she did have a point.

"Birth?"

Obi-wan's eyes darted back to his former friend at the sound of his distorted voice. Vader had not moved – if anything, he seemed frozen in place. Though he seemed intent on the Jedi, Vader's hand was still gripping his wife's. Kenobi felt his resolve waver, then collapse completely.

If he could not kill Anakin in the heat of battle, he could hardly kill him here, in the presence of his wife and soon-to-be-born children.

"Yes, Darth. Birth." Defeated, Obi-wan lowered his blade and turned away.

Freed from the immediate threat Kenobi's blade had posed, Vader swung around to stare at his wife. Birth? _Birth?!_ The word seemed foreign, irrelevant. Padme could not be giving _birth_! That would have to mean…

The situation fell together in front of his eyes, the obvious hitting Vader so hard he thought it might throw him from the room. Of course she was giving birth – lying back on the bed, legs bent, the bulge of her stomach, the pain coursing through her at regular intervals. But how could this be? How could she be _pregnant_?!

The word filled Vader with terror, and awe. His wife was with child.

_His_ child?

As if sensing the mad flurry of his thoughts, Padme breathed in the lulling of her pain and managed another smile. It was heartbreakingly beautiful, given the circumstances. "Ani, you're going to be a father."

_Father_.

He was going to be a father. Padme, the love of his life, his comfort and salvation, was about to give birth to their child. The gut-wrenching knowledge tore through him as nothing else could have. It was sweet, and ultimately destructive.

"What," he managed, realizing belatedly that fear and uncertainty was choking him, "what can I do?"

"Just don't leave me."

"I won't, Padme. I'm here, right here."

He gripped her hand as the convulsions came closer and closer together, till her crying drowned out the sound of his respirator and he had to draw upon the Force so as to ignore the pain of her clenching his hand. Padme screamed as her body struggled to force a part of itself out, and there was nothing he could do to help her. The entire room seemed to shriek with intensity. Vader could hear the other woman in the room offering calm reassurance, could feel Kenobi's tense and worried presence, and another, sitting quietly in the corner.

The Force wheeled around them, the very air alive with it.

"Hold on, Padme. Hold on," Vader whispered, offering up a part of himself to the powerful forces at work in the room. He would give anything, _anything_, if it meant she survived this.

And then, in the most shocking cry he had ever heard, a baby entered the world.

Padme gasped for air, fell back onto the bed, and wept. Just one more. Just one more time. Using her elbows, she propped herself up and looked over to where Sabe gently washed the newborn in a basin of water. When the infant was dry, though still crying, she brought it to Obi-wan and placed in it in his arms.

With little mirth, Kenobi looked down at the child, then to the woman who gazed worriedly at him from the bed. "Congratulations, Padme. This is your daughter."

"Leia!" Padme gasped and reached for her child. But Obi-wan didn't move.

"Wait, Padme. There is another that needs to enter this world first."

She nodded already feeling the pain beginning to build again. "Then let her father hold her."

Obi-wan hesitated, but only for a moment. There was little point in resisting. Vader seemed frozen to his spot on the floor, but the mask had swerved to stare up at the Jedi. No, not him. At the child in his arms.

With the greatest of care, he knelt. Little Leia still shrieked, her feeble legs kicking vainly in protest at the sudden cold, bright world she now found herself in. She was impossibly tiny, utterly fragile, and with a heavy heart, Kenobi passed her into the waiting arms of a Sith Lord.

Vader felt awkward holding the child. He had not expected any of this. He had not expected to be suddenly given so wondrous a burden as a child, had not expected to be handed a tiny, squealing, _living_ creature. This was _life_. What was he supposed to do with it? Suddenly fearful of being clumsy, dropping the child in his ignorance, Vader shifted her weight carefully.

"Here," Kenobi reached over and adjusted the child in his arms. "Hold her like this." He laid her little head in the crook of her father's arms, wrapping her blanket securely around her, already unwilling to pull away, feeling already as though they had bonded.

"Obi-wan, I need you over here."

Sabe's voice pulled him back, the sensations of Padme's labor pains dragging him back to his duty.

Vader was left with the child.

He stared down in wonder.

Large, innocent brown eyes, so trusting, opened slowly and looked up at the world around her. They gazed about, blinking in the light, seeking. Her wailing had stopped the minute he had taken hold of her, and now his daughter turned her gaze on him. His wife's eyes looked back at him and he smiled, momentarily.

She could not see his face, could not see him smile. All she saw, Vader realized, was the mask. The damned mask that separated him from her little form, from her sweet baby scent. He cursed the mask, the armor, all of it. But this anger, this new wave of self-disgust, vanished immediately. Though this demonic image was the first his daughter saw in this world, Leia opened her mouth wide and gave a toothless smile.

She did not need eyes to see, she told him through the Force. She could feel that he was happy and loved her.

It was purely the most wonderful moment of his life.

"Leia."

The Sith gazed down at his daughter. Leia continued to gaze up at him, past the mask and the Darkness. This was his daughter. She was perfect. There was no other word to describe her. And she was his. She was a part of him, a being created through love. Could there ever be anything more wonderful than this?

"Vader?"

Lifting his head from the precious sight, Vader found his vision too hazy to see through. Small tears traced their way down his scarred cheeks. He searched through his blurry vision, and found Obi-wan. The Jedi Master reached out.

Vader immediately took a step back. _No!_ Kenobi could not take his daughter away. His precious child! His Leia.

But then he looked down, following Obi-wan's gaze. In his former master's arms, snuggled down, calm and quiet despite the pain it had taken to bring him into this world, was another little bundle.

"This is your son. This is Luke. Do you want to hold him?"

He could not answer. What good were words, anyway? They could not tell of this terribly sweet ache, this bittersweet pain in his chest. It was something he had forgotten about. Something that he had been so sure was lost to him forever. Reaching out with his other arm, Vader took this second child, the twin of his Leia, into his arms and held him close.

A son. His son.

Luke.

The boy was so much like his mother. He didn't utter a single cry, merely looked up at his father with bright blue eyes, his eyes, and stared. There was no smile on this child's face. Only awe and wonder and love in that big blue gaze. And Vader stared back in return, unsure what to say or do.

This little being, so small and delicate, so perfect and wondrous. This was his son. His beautiful baby boy.

Father and son stared at one another in silence, as the daughter slept on in her father's arms. Their mother lay on the bed, regaining breath. Obi-wan stood by, watching.

The Jedi felt paralyzed by his conflicting emotions. A part of him stood in awe, seeing the formerly terrifying Sith so easily holding the babes, being so consciously gentle with them. Vader had held Padme's hand, had comforted her, had not tried to strike down his former master when threatened. That had to mean some part of Anakin still existed. Maybe Kenobi had been wrong all along. Maybe there weren't two separate halves of his friend, but rather a single individual who had been pushed so far he had broken under the pressure of destiny and the Darkside's influence. Maybe – just maybe – there was hope.

He wanted to believe that. But Obi-wan had to acknowledge to himself that that desire was based on his longing for Anakin to come back to them, his desperate need for reassurance that he had not failed his friend so thoroughly as this. The part of Obi-wan that had seen the slow corruption of Skywalker, had taken part in their duel on Mustafar, remained on guard against having his heart broken again.

What good was having hope in something that was unlikely to happen?

He wanted desperately to believe that this was the miracle they had all been waiting for, the promise that everything would eventually be all right. But Obi-wan had been hurt too many times. He would need something more before he was convinced.

Padme seemed to need no such reassurance.

"Anakin?"

The Sith turned to her, his expression unreadable behind the mask.

"Padme. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I-I'm going to be fine, Ani." She managed to laugh despite still being winded from the ordeal. But that spark of life had returned to her eyes, and Vader could feel her presence in the Force shining brightly. Eagerly, she reached toward the babies he held. "Please, let me hold one."

"If you're not feeling too weak." He passed little Leia into her arms, and mother and daughter greedily drank in each other's scent.

Husband and wife gazed at each other, and then down at the tiny life in their arms.

"You named them Luke and Leia?"

"Yes," Padme replied softly. "I know you didn't have a say. Please don't be mad at me."

Vader cringed. She was frightened of him. Well, he had given her every reason to be, hadn't he?

"They were named well."

He wanted to leave it at that. There was nothing more that he wanted other for than this moment to continue on forever. There was no galaxy, no Empire, no Force. Nothing outside this moment, holding his son in his arms, watching his wife and daughter, feeling their love and contentment. But Vader knew he couldn't ignore the reality that was about to come crashing down upon them. The fact that he had come here by inexplicable means, just in time to find Padme in childbirth, on a planet he had never heard of before, seemed irrelevant in the face of his greater concerns. Vader did not want to shatter the precious moment, but he knew he had to ask, had to know the truth.

"You weren't going to tell me about my children," he looked at Padme, feeling the Darkness coursing around him, but struggling to keep it at bay. He would not be angry with her. Not till he understood why. "Were you?"

She hesitated, staring at him with uncertainty glistening in her eyes. No doubt remembering the last time she had been with her husband, the nightmarish events that had been their farewell on Naboo months ago.

He had hurt her then, so caught up in his Darkness that he hadn't even sensed the life growing inside her. Inside, Vader cringed at the memory. He very well could have killed her, killed their unborn son and daughter. Would he have stopped, if she had told him?

Vader didn't know, and that scared him, more than her answer did.

"No," Padme admitted. "You had – you had changed, Anakin. You scared me, with your talk of ruling the galaxy, of overthrowing the Jedi. Obi-wan said – we agreed, it would be best, if you didn't know."

The Sith turned to where the Jedi Master stood, watching with a defensive edginess. Kenobi seemed to hesitate, before saying the last thing Vader had ever expected.

"I'm sorry."

Sensing the other's shock, Obi-wan pushed onward. This was his chance, maybe the only one he had ever had. Anakin had been unwilling to listen on Mustafar, the Darkness having corrupted him beyond recognition. But here, in this surreal moment, something was happening. Something was _changing_. He had to grab hold of it before it vanished.

"I have to keep them hidden, Anakin. Keep them safe. And if that meant hiding them from you, then I would have. But not to hurt you. Never, in any way, have I _ever_ meant to hurt you." Obi-wan paused, fighting down the rise of emotions that threatened to choke him. He had to stay on topic, had to make Vader understand the consequences of his new allegiance to the Sith. "But you must try and understand. The Emperor would not allow them to live. They will be powerful in the Force, and simply by that token, that gift or curse of birth, they would be a threat to him."

After a moment, Vader nodded.

His master would have ordered the children slain. They were not old enough to be of use, and the argument that the twins could be raised as Sith would have been in vain. Palpatine would have seen through the ruse, and known Vader kept his children not as potential minions, but out of love.

And because he loved his son and daughter, he could not subject them to so dark a future as their father's.

That left Vader with few options. He could return to the fleet and complete his assigned mission, which now seemed vaguely absurd in comparison to the last few minutes. That would require a lot of duplicity on his part – lying to Sidious, potentially for years until his children were trained in the ways of the Force, capable of protecting themselves. And what would he do in that time? Fly back and forth, visiting his family in secret? Continuing to serve the Emperor, even as he clandestinely opposed him at heart?

No. He could not do it. Not now. Not after this. His self-hatred still fueled the Darkness burning inside him, but already he felt his previous convictions crumbling. Politics and ideologies seem trivial in comparison to the tiny forms of his twin children.

That left only a single option. It seemed inconceivable, and filled Vader with a great deal of fear and self-doubt.

But if he wanted his children to live, and if he wanted a chance at sharing in their lives, this was his only choice.

But he would need help.

Vader looked again to Obi-wan, and willed himself to let go, to be vulnerable in the presence of someone who only moments ago had been his enemy. But once upon a time, they had been closer than brothers. And when he had stumbled in the dark, Kenobi had been the one to protect that which Skywalker had held most dear. If there was anyone he could turn to now, it had to be Obi-wan.

"Thank you." It was not what he had been meaning to say, but it seemed to slip out of Vader without his consent. Kenobi's eyes widened, his posture radiating shock. Hesitantly, he took a step forward and knelt beside the bed. Gray eyes, wary but hopeful, bore into him.

"Anakin?"

His breathing became more labored at the sound of his old master using his name. Why did this hurt so much? He hadn't expected it to, hadn't expected it to be almost impossible to force words past a lump forming in his throat. This decision had been rational. And yet, the emotions that welled up in him could not be denied.

He wanted this. He _wanted_ it. Not only for the sake of his children, but for _himself_.

The final acknowledgement of that was what ultimately broke him.

"Help me, Obi-wan," Anakin managed, suddenly wondering at the Darkness and the handful of years that separated them from their friendship. Wondering at himself and how far he had fallen. "I need your help, your guidance." The Jedi stared at him, uncomprehending. "I don't want to go back. I _can't_ go back. Let me stay here, with Padme, with you and my children. Please, brother. _Help me_."

Beside him, Padme gasped. He wanted to turn to her, tell her he was sorry, beg for her forgiveness. Anakin wanted to promise he would never leave her, never hurt her again. But he could not turn his eyes away from Kenobi. It was the Jedi who would condemn or save him. If Obi-wan refused, if he turned Anakin away…

But his fear fell away at the unexpected sight of tears tracing down Kenobi's cheeks.

"Obi-wan?" Anakin heard himself say, caught completely off-guard. He reached up with his free hand, instinctively, to wipe the tears away. He caught himself at the last moment, surprised the older man had not jerked away.

Instead, Obi-wan leaned forward. He placed a hand on the padded shoulder of the Sith, in the same manner he had time and time again when giving reassurance to his friend. But this time, it was Obi-wan who needed the reassure, the comfort the other could offer. He wrapped his arms around his former apprentice, mindful of the child resting between them, and wept.

Anakin was stunned, but only for a moment. Through the Force, he could feel his friend's relief, his joy, and an almost paralyzing disbelief. The emotions mirrored his own so well that he laughed, before wrapping his free arm around his brother, pulling him close.

Everything would be alright now. Somehow, he knew it. Beside them, Padme cried softly, hugging her daughter to her. The children slept on, peacefully unaware of the significance of the moment.

From the corner of the room, where he had sat silently through the entire course of events, manipulating the Force to keep them all hidden from the searching eyes of the Darkside, Yoda hopped down off his stool. This was not at all what he had expected.

But, he had to admit, when dealing with Skywalkers, nothing ever was.

Caslia


	4. Revised Chapter 3

Chapter Three

* * *

She stood in the shadows of the doorway, watching with a small smile on her face as the little family huddled close. The smile changed, grew, as the man known as Anakin Skywalker made a leap of faith, a step toward redemption, and offered for the Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi to hold his son.

Kenobi took the child ever so gently and held him close, smiling despite his tears.

The other Jedi Master, the one called Yoda, rose from his seat in the corner, where he had been blocking the ripples in the Force caused by the birth. It had been his burden, his task, to try and keep such a joyous shout of new life from the ears of the Emperor.

Had he known the Force was already on his side, had taken steps to see to it that Sidious never even heard a whisper, maybe the little green one would not have taxed himself so much. However, he had not known. Perhaps it was best this way. Now there was no way, save for the voices, to suggest she had even been a part of it.

And besides, what were these voices but echoes of memories in the Dark Lord's mind? No one would ever know. She allowed for another smile.

Stepping carefully to the side, she allowed the Master to leave the room, soon followed by the young woman the others called Sabé. She walked by, didn't even glance in her direction.

Well, neither had the great Jedi Master Yoda. This gave her pause. Once, this would have made her smile. As she had walked the Jedi Temple in silent contemplation, she had enjoyed the fact that the supposedly powerful master didn't even know she was there, that only the reckless and fated apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, occasionally noticed her presence.

However, a Darkness had fallen. The Light was fading. Perhaps she had let it fade too far, to too great a degree, if Yoda could not sense her.

She turned back to the smiling faces of the Skywalker family. Her grin returned and in contentment she stood leaning against the door, looking in. It had not taken much to make this moment possible. In fact, she had thought it would be much harder. But apparently, like nearly everyone else, she had underestimated Anakin's chance at redemption. Oh well. No harm done with that now.

Intending to leave, no longer wanting to intrude upon this family's solitude, she turned to go. And she just might have, might have kept her silence, had a small light not flickered beside her and taken form.

The spirits that pass on, that become "one with the Force," rarely touch this existence again. It was rare that they take a form, one which they had left behind, unless necessary. This light took a form now though, no doubt so it could look with human eyes upon the family in the room.

A tall man with broad shoulders, long gray hair and knowing eyes raised a bushy eyebrow and smiled.

"You know, you really shouldn't tamper with people's lives like that."

The spirit moved from within the hallway to the light shadows just within the little doorway. The sunlight spilled in through the window and touched the bed, leaving the other two in shadows.

Better this way, better not to be seen. Her part in this was over.

The two watched, smiling.

She shrugged. Wasn't 'tampering' with people's lives what she did?

"Probably not."

The other chuckled and looked his companion up and down. So, she had taken on a female form. Not unusual. Her height was probably no more than Padme's, her figure strong and fit. But her hair and features continued to change. They shifted from many different colors and shapes, never resting for long on one. Only her eyes never changed. Where there should have been irises and pupils, there was nothing but infinity. Her gaze held steady as she stared at the little family.

Had there not been that smile upon her shifting lips, not a small gleam to her presence, her eyes, or lack of, would have made her look sinister. Dark.

But then, he had seen her that way before. That, too, was not an uncommon sight.

"Have you no shame?" he asked her jokingly. "Aren't you even a little remorseful about what you've done?"

"My actions brought this family back together. Why should this bother me?"

He rolled his eyes slightly. It was his place to be patient, but there were times that she could test his limitless tolerance. But then, she was always like this. Questioning, wondering, even when she already knew everything.

"No. Undoing what was done, what so many suffered to have happen. The Jedi that had died, the innocent who had suffered. Anakin was not meant to be redeemed just yet."

She shrugged again, weighing the worth of his words. She thought of the way things would have been different had she not whispered in Vader's ears. How the years, dismal and endless in their sorrow and their grief would have stretched out. How Padme would have withered and died, how Vader would have soured on the inside, how the Darkness would have eroded away the memories and the dreams.

She shut her eyes for just a moment, blocking the vision of the family from before her and seeing into a future that now would never be. Yes, she could see the twins, grown, and the things they faced and felt due to a man who had not been there to see their birth.

Well, none of that would happen now.

"Let others write this story to end in anguish and despair. I can only offer so many happy endings. Let this be one of them."

The other spirit nodded in accordance. "Look at them. They are so happy. Look at Skywalker. See the way he looks at his children, how his son and daughter gaze back at him. The wonder in their eyes. The pride and joy in Padme's. You did the right thing."

"I do not regret the galaxy as it has been created, or what happens in it. Conflict and suffering is all a part of life, and of death. But I could not leave Anakin Skywalker to suffer that way, with redemption so far off, because his life was not entirely of his own making. He will be held accountable for the things he has done. But there is no reason he should suffer for the things I have inflicted upon him. Besides, I hardly doubt you would ever let me hear the end of it, Master Jinn."

The spirit beside her, known in life as Qui-gon Jinn, turned only slightly from his vigil of the Skywalker family to reply. "And what about the Balance?"

She continued to frown, momentarily making wrinkles on her translucent forehead. Then it passed and became merely a turning down of the lips. Different people frown in different ways, and as her face was composed of all faces, it constantly switched in both features and expressions.

"There is Balance still. Anakin has not failed, and I have not truly interfered by changing his fate. The corruption of the Light was destroyed. Soon, the Darkness will balance out. It is in their hands now. And I trust them not to fail."

What emerged from Qui-gon in reply was a deep, heart-felt laugh that would have rocked the rafters of the small cottage, had he been in a physical form. Instead, the breeze turned warmer and Obi-wan paused in his adoration of the Skywalker boy. He appeared to be listening for something, but when he didn't hear it again, he brushed it aside and looked back down at little Luke.

Jinn continued to chuckle, even as he saw the frown on her face deepen. She was not used to being laughed at. Except, of course, by Palpatine, and his were ludicrous laughter of a deranged mind.

He shook his head and turned to her, an astonished look on his old, now young, now middle aged, now old again face. "You made a mess of thousands upon thousands of years of planning the destiny of the Chosen One. And now, you leave it to them," he waved a hand in Anakin's general direction, "to fix everything?!"

She gave the former Jedi Master an indifferent shrug.

"I am not responsible for the Jedi, or the Sith or this Empire or the Republic or this war or that disease. I do not make history. If I had had my way from the beginning rather than the ancient Jedi Masters, things would be very different. Including that Jar Jar character whom I would've roasted over an open pit." That bought on some deliciously wicked ideas and she chuckled to herself. "Ah well. Seems we can all dream."

At this, the Jedi Master frowned. "That's the Darkness talking." He reprimanded.

"Do not frown at me, Qui-gon Jinn. No harm done. It was merely a whim, and I did not act on it."

Qui-gon cast a glance at Anakin and Padme and a small doubt bit at him. "And was this a whim?" he asked her, quietly, wondering. Worrying.

She turned away from the spirit and looked upon the Skywalkers. They looked so happy. So content. "And what if it was?" she replied just as softly. "It was not ill conceived. There is still Balance and Anakin is happy. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"More than anything."

"There, you see?" The smile faded, vanished. "I am not such a cold-hearted being, am I? Now," she turned away from the doorway and back down the hall, leaving Qui-gon to stand vigil alone. "I think I should allow Skywalker and his family some time alone."

"You're leaving?"

Turning back, she found him watching her, that knowing look in his eyes. "I am never truly gone." She simply replied. "But, yes, for the moment, I am leaving. There is another such as Skywalker who needs me to - how did you put it? - 'tamper' with his life."

"You should not leave, not now." Qui-gon said. "They need a guide, someone to help lead them through what is coming. I cannot be here for them always."

"That is Obi-wan's part in this." She pointed with a shifting hand to the Jedi in the room, still kneeling beside his friend, both of them now talking quietly amongst each other as Padme fed the twins. There were no tears now, and no smile either. But he was happy. She knew that as well as she knew thousands of light years away that another child was weeping, alone in the dark. "Have faith, for without it, that family over there would not have gotten as far as they have."

"True." Jinn smiled at his former apprentice, feeling pride and love. The son of his teachings had done well. "I am glad that they have found peace. I am grateful for that. But," he admitted to her, "I am afraid their story is far from over."

It was her turn to laugh. "Their story? This is not Anakin Skywalker's story. It is not yours, nor mine, nor anyone else's. Do not be confused, my friend. This has barely begun."

A small smile tugged at the Master's lips. "You are right, of course." But the smile soon disappeared and Qui-gon was solemn again. "Answer me this, before you go; will they know more pain in their lives?"

She stopped the shadows from swallowing her and cast one last glance over her should.

"We all will. No one is above ills in this existence. Myself included. It is hard to be Death and Life and Light and Darkness and Balance all in one. It is hard to be someone and everything when you are Chaos within Order. Even I know sorrow and joy." She shrugged and the shadows moved closer. "And Anakin will know it too. But I will watch over him, and be with him." She paused a moment and that playfulness, which had disappeared but always returned, as it seemed to be a prominent part of her shifting personalities, made her wink. "And I will continue to make his life interesting. I would not want our young Skywalker to get too bored."

Qui-gon merely chuckled in reply. "I am beginning to see your mean streak."She laughed in return, smiled once more at the family that was her charge and let go of form. The Force was still laughing to itself as it faded away within the shadows.

* * *

End

Anakin and his family's story continues in _Rebirth of the Light: The Years That Followed_, which can be found under my name.

Caslia


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